


The Peacock's Flight

by zappy_papi



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Aithra, Ancient Greece, Angst, Cheating, Daughters of Metis, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hebe is a perceptive cutiepie, Hera is Bi, Hera is rough with men but so soft with the ladies, Light Dom/sub, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Smut, Zeus is a bottom, like right from the get go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25253485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zappy_papi/pseuds/zappy_papi
Summary: Zeus was the one that claimed Hera. And yet, he was constantly unfaithful to her.Hera, in her distress, sought revenge by wrathfully cursing each of his lovers; after all, it takes two to have an affair.His dalliance with a mere villager, Aithra, was the last straw. Hera wanted to take a more direct approach in dealing with this mortal to send a clear message to her husband..   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .“Queen Hera,” said Aithra coolly. “I presume you are here to torment me, as you did to all the others?”“You dared to enjoy the attentions of my husband,” Hera growled while shifting into her primal form. “My wrath is well-deserved.” Aithra ceased her weaving and cocked her head.“Why, then, did I turn him and all other men away?”
Relationships: Athena/Hestia (Lore Olympus), Hera/Original Female Character (Lore Olympus), Hera/Zeus (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, Lore Olympus fans! I've been writing stories for a while, but this is my first fanfic! Thank you to the lovely korecob for being my beta <3 I'm looking forward to seeing how this progresses. Without further ado, here is chapter 1.

The first glow of dawn woke Hera up from her restless slumber. Rubbing away the day-old mascara from her eyes, she peered down at her crumpled dress, and then back up at the toppled bottle of whisky on the coffee table. “Damn you, whisky,” Hera grumbled under her breath. “I haven’t been this hungover in a while!”

“Mama! You look like a raccoon!” Hera whipped her head around to see her child giggling at her in her pajamas.

“Hebe, darling, why are you up so early?” Hebe padded over to her mother.

“I wanted to see the sunrise!" Hebe replied.

“And so you shall. Come sit on Mama's lap, my darling girl”. The two of them sat in a companionable silence, letting the early morning sun wash over them.

“Why is Papa’s appletini still there?” Hebe asked, pointing to the unfinished drink on the coffee table. Hera sighed and combed through her daughter’s hair with her fingers.

“Well, Papa had other plans that were so urgent that he neglected to even tell ME about them,” Hera said, absentmindedly braiding Hebe’s hair. “In fact, his  _ plans _ were probably so important that we won’t see him until after he comes home from work today.” Hera shifted on the chaise, a sharp dig in her side reminding her of what she was wearing underneath the jade green cocktail dress.

Zeus had been acting so differently around her for the past few weeks. He was uncharacteristically attentive, complimenting her outfits every day, making the bed when Hera was too busy, and even making it home in time for dinner every night. She could feel his lingering gaze on her whenever she left the room, making her blush and reminding her their most passionate nights together. Aside from a few stray kisses, Hera had hesitated to reintroduce physical intimacy into their relationship. Three months ago, after she banished him from their home, Zeus promised to commit himself to Hera, and only Hera. She tearfully shunned him at the time; but people could change, couldn’t they?

Last night, Hera had been ready to sleep with him again. She missed the feeling of his arms cradling her while he made love to her, their foreheads touching reverently. Or better yet, when he looked up at her in awe with his hands tied above his head as she rode him into oblivion. When he didn’t command her or belittle her or question her sanity, and instead, gave into the dominance that she naturally exerted.

She tucked Hebe into bed after an early dinner, and waited for her husband in the foyer, reclined seductively on the chaise. Hera waited for hours, hoping that he was just finishing up some paperwork, or settling a minor dispute. She swirled glass after glass of whisky, staring into their depths and hoping that he wasn’t in the arms of another lover.

Hera was broken out of her reverie by Hebe wiggling out of her lap. “Mama, can we have lemon-ricotta pancakes for breakfast?”, Hebe pleaded, making her irresistible pouting face.

“Of course! Let me just tidy up first,” answered Hera, cracking a smile. Hebe hopped off Hera’s lap and slowly turned back to face her.

“Wait… you said we won’t see Papa until after he comes back from work, but today is Sunday, silly! It’s his day off!” Hera stared at her daughter as the realization dawned on her.

“Come on, Hebe,” said Hera as she stood up and patted down the creases on her dress. “We’ve got to make these pancakes fast; I have a brunch to attend.”

. . . . . . . . . . . 

As Hera showered, she started to construct her next disguise. She hadn’t spied on the three Kings at the strip club ever since the morning after Hades officially met Persephone, but out of the three of them, Hades would definitely recognize her if she were to repeat that disguise. Pondering her options, Hera finally settled on a chartreuse flower nymph. She threw her arms up dramatically in front of the mirror, and in a puff of smoke, she assumed her disguise. Satisfied, Hera got dressed and transported herself to an alley outside the seedy club.

Hera slipped inside and discretely picked up a tray of drinks and scanned the dimly lit room for the sons of Rhea. It only took a few seconds; the three of them were among the only patrons in the club. Gliding past a tank of mermaids who were STILL angrily hissing about Poseidon, Hera got close enough to their table to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“… and it’s freezing in the moral world! Demeter still can’t find Persephone and she’s getting on my NERVES,” said Zeus, his head cocked to the side and propped up on his fist. “You still don’t know anything about her whereabouts?” he asked Hades.

The blue god coughed up his drink and looked away from his brothers, his eyes wide. “N-no of course not,” Hades stammered.  _ He’s stuttering?  _ Hera thought. _ Hmmm, I’ll find out about the goddess of spring later. _

“We better find her soon. Amphi keeps telling me that I need to take it easier on the sailors, but I’m not even causing the stronger currents! This weather does not bode well for the seas,” said Poseidon emphatically. Hera had never seen the ocean god so serious before.

“Anyway, it’s been a pain to try and placate Demeter,” said her husband, sighing. “I’m so glad that I could just let loose last night, if you know what I mean.” Zeus wiggled his eyebrows at his brothers. Hera narrowed her eyes and approached the table, slowly laying out their new drinks and picking up their finished ones. Hades snorted and leaned back in his chair.

“If you mean ‘cozying up to a mortal woman while ghosting Hera’, then I certainly know what you mean,” Hades quipped. He leaned back in and said to his brother in a pleading voice, “You were doing so well. Bunny’s been looking happier, too. How could you do this to her?”

“Yeah, Hera’s never been with anyone else before,” said Poseidon. Hera saw Hades staring bashfully into his glass again. She barely held back her smirk. “I can sleep with other people because Amphi does it too! We even compare notes! You can’t engage in polyamory and expect your monogamy-aligning partner to be ok with it,” Poseidon said, fixating on the table. “Ooooh! This scratch on the table looks like a pufferfish!” he exclaimed gleefully. Hera, Hades, and Zeus stared at Poseidon with varying levels of awe and confusion. Hera slowly tread back to an alcove near the mermaid tanks.

“It’s been  _ months _ since I’ve even slept on the same bed as Hera. I deserve to live a little! Those mortals must have been grateful that they had someone like to liven up their festival that they had in the snow. And if you saw this woman you’d understand!”, said Zeus wistfully. Hera glared at her husband and took out a little notebook that she had hidden in her salacious outfit.

Zeus continued, “It was so cold, and yet, she looked so warm and inviting. There was something about her that made her irresistible. And she was sitting so far away from everyone, it’s like she  _ wanted _ to be approached by someone as dashing as me.” Hades gave the purple god a pointed look.

“Ummm… that’s what someone does when they want everyone to stay the hell away from them,” Hades chastised. “And if you were so smitten with this woman from Syros, then why haven’t you even mentioned her name yet?” Hera leaned closer to them, scribbling down ‘ _ Syros’  _ in her notes.

Zeus twirled his hair around his finger. “Of course I know her name! It was a very pretty name… Esther, no wait maybe it was Aria, ummm Aretha? Wait! I got it! Aithra. Aithra of Syros,” Zeus replied, looking far too proud of himself. “But she must have been too tired to let me do anything with her, so you know where I’ll be next weekend!” His brothers rolled their eyes at him and took swigs of their drinks, far too engrossed in Zeus’ foolishness to notice the clatter of a pen on the floor near the mermaid tanks and the subsequent burst of smoke.

. . . . . . . . . . . 

Hera reappeared in her study, her chest heaving. The hand holding the note was shaking. Hera turned back into herself and plopped down dejectedly in her chair and lit a cigarette, flicking the note onto the table. How could he do this to her? Again?  _ I was such an idiot to think that he’d ever be any different _ . Hera leaned over her desk to open a tidy jade scrapbook titled, “The Peacock’s Talons”. She laid it open next to the note, revealing an amalgamation of mind maps and sketches of various women transforming into cows, getting lost in labyrinths, and going mad. She flipped to a new page and scribbled something in hurried cursive. “Aithra of Syros”.  _ My wrath will be unmatched,  _ Hera thought to herself. _ This time, Zeus will learn to never cross me again. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out more about this scrapbook of curses... Thank you to korecob for being a super enthusiastic beta!!!

Tapping her cigarette, Hera started to work. As always, she went through the records of her past actions. She flipped open a page titled, “Io”. She _loved_ a good transformation; it was a shame that Zeus was the one who turned Io, her former priestess, into a cow. To try and fool _her_ . _As if he could ever hide anything from me,_ she thought, smiling humorlessly. Unfortunately, Io was able to escape far all the way to the realm of the Egyptian pantheon and marry a pharaoh. Hera would have loved to see her being stung for the rest of the decade, but the Fates had clearly not willed this to be so.

Sighing, Hera continued to flip through her scrapbook. She couldn’t let Zeus turn that flirtatious wench from Syros into an animal. No, that would not do. She stopped at another page. “Europa”. This time, _Zeus_ had been the one to turn into a bull to escape with Europa to the island of Crete. Hera had been dealing with another one of Ares’ rages, and didn’t have the time to take Europa’s torment into her own hands. Hera glanced at a note glued on the page. “Zeus fathered her son, Minos”. Disgusted by the memory, Hera moved on.

She flipped through dozens of pages with various women. Leto. Thalia. Electra. Pandora. Echo. Hera chuckled at the last one. The poor girl was still wandering around repeating the ends of people’s sentences. Hera felt a flicker of remorse, but it was quickly replaced with rage. These women _deserved_ what she did to them. They had the audacity to sleep with her husband; they needed to know that she wasn’t someone who could be fucked with.

Satisfied with her skimming, Hera flipped the scrapbook to the ideas section. She had always dreamed of trapping someone in a labyrinth and letting them slowly go mad. But it was too elaborate, and besides, it wasn’t really her style. She could just kill the maiden from Syros, but it was far too merciful and wouldn’t convey the right message to Zeus. Then, she remembered that Zeus described Aithra as warm, even with all the cold around her. _I can work with that_ , Hera thought to herself. Taking another puff of her cigarette, she set to work, crafting a curse that would torment this wretched woman for the rest of her existence.

. . . . . . . . . . . 

Hera shut the door of the study and headed into her bedroom. She moved her high ponytail to the side and started to take off her earrings, just as the door of the room creaked open to reveal her husband’s beaming face. “Bunny!”, said Zeus, closing the door. “You look absolutely ravishing.” Hera suddenly remembered that she was still wearing the equivalent of a bodysuit from the club. Zeus slowly approached her, his eyes darkened with lust. Against her wishes, Hera gasped and slowly shuddered out a breath, squeezing her legs together. He was right. It had been _so_ long for both of them; her fingers were less than satisfying when unbidden memories of Zeus skillfully playing with her clit came to mind. Hera started backing up, needing time to think.

“That outfit hugs _all_ of your curves, babe,” Zeus said with a groan. He continued to advance on her, slowly slipping off his jacket and starting to loosen his tie. _He wanted to be with someone else last night,_ Hera reminded herself. “You look so. Damn. _Sexy_ .” _But you’ve wanted this too._ Zeus started unbuttoning his shirt. _If you indulge in this, he’ll never suspect what you are planning to do tonight._ Hera’s back hit the wall, and her instinct kicked in.

“Did I say that you could take off your shirt?”, she snapped. Zeus instantly recognized her tone, nearly whimpering at the thought of submitting to his wife. Hera cracked a wicked smile, her gaze trailing down to the tent in his pants.

“No, Bunny, I-I’m sorry I didn’t–”.

“Bunny? I think you’re mistaken,” Hera sighed, turning around to conceal her smile. “Maybe you don’t want this as much as I thought.” She tantalizingly shifted her hips and turned her head to watch his reaction.

“I’m sorry, _my queen_.”

Hera twirled around, her stilettos clicking as she slowly walked toward him. _He’s not really sorry. But I’ll make him pay_. She shucked off one of her heels and placed that leg on the loveseat at the foot of their bed. Zeus was staring at her reverently, not moving a muscle. Putting a dainty hand on her knee, she pushed her leg away from her center and with the other hand, she unbuttoned the clasp near her core, hissing when the fabric rubbed against her wetness. “Then kneel before your queen.” Dazed, Zeus dropped to his knees. “And worship her like the obedient subject you are.” Zeus fit his large hands on the firmness of her ass and dove into her hot core licking and sucking at her like a man deprived of water for a week. Hera threw her head back in a breathy moan and fisted his hair pushing him impossibly closer to her.

“My _queen_ , you taste like honey and wine,” Zeus groaned against her clit. Hera tore down both of the straps of her bodysuit, her free hand trailing down her throat before squeezing one of her breasts. 

“You love licking my pussy, don’t you?”, Hera moaned, pinching a nipple. “I can see your cock throbbing from all the way up here,” she panted. “Should I let you come inside me? Have you demonstrated-”, Hera gasped as Zeus moved one of his hands from her ass to slide two fingers inside her. “-your appreciation for your queen?” Her legs were shaking from the effort of trying to stand as she approached her orgasm. With a sharp tug, Hera pulled Zeus back from her dripping core. His face was covered in her wetness and her breath quickened.

“Stand,” Hera commanded. Zeus stood, his hand twitching near the bulge of his pants. Hera grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and roughly pulled him toward her, his hands coming to grip her waist to keep his balance. He closed his eyes, anticipating a kiss, her lips barely ghosting his. Hera took a deep breath, her scent from his face causing a fresh wave of arousal in her. “Strip, and then lie down on the bed”.

“Yes, my queen.” The purple god hurriedly shucked off his clothes and laid down obediently on the bed. Hera slipped out of the remains of her bodysuit and kicked off the other heel. Turning away from him, she bent over to pick up the tie he had discarded earlier. She walked back to the bed to see Zeus furiously stroking his fully erect cock, never taking his eyes off of her.

“Put your hands above your head. That cock belongs to me.” _Not any of those other goddesses, nymphs, or mortals._ "Only _I_ can touch it.” Panting, Zeus obeyed. Hera tied his wrists and in one elegant and well-practiced move, straddled his hips and sank down on his cock.

“ _Fuck_ , Hera, your pussy was _made_ for me,” Zeus said breathily, his eyes rolling back into his head from pleasure. Hera put both her hands on his chest and twisted both of his nipples, earning her a hiss of pain from her husband. _I was made for no one but myself_ . Hera rode him at a punishing pace, one of her hands flying up to clutch her breasts as she bounced on his cock harder and faster. _I was_ meant _to be in control like this._

Zeus started to meet her thrusts with his own. His chest started to glow with little zaps of lightning, signaling the buildup to his release. The pressure tipped Hera over the edge and she cried out as she came, throwing her head back as she supported herself with her palms on his thighs. “Baby, I’m about to come,” groaned Zeus, his chest heaving with the task of keeping his hands above his head. Hera immediately dismounted him, kneeling beside him and glaring at him.

“P-please let me come I can’t TAKE it, my queen _please_ ”. At the sight of the purple god begging, Hera caved and fisted his cock, pumping while the other hand slid up his chest and tightened around his throat.

“I am the only one you can ever do this with. _Any_ of this,” said Hera as she cupped his balls and squeezed. Zeus choked out a moan. “Only _I_ can bring you over the edge. This is what we _vowed_ to do.” She stroked his cock harder, watching the bursts of lightning in his hair singe the pillow. “Say it. Say that you’re mine.” _Even if that will never be true. I need to hear it. Just this once._

Zeus nearly sobbed with the buildup of his release. “Hera, I’m yours, and only yours, and this body belongs to you, I love–”. Hera cut Zeus off with a searing kiss as he came, not wanting to hear those hollow words coming out of him. She poured her rage and heartache into the kiss, biting his lower lip and plunging her tongue into his mouth. Without breaking the kiss, she released his wrists to feel Zeus wrapping his arms around her, clutching her to him. _For the last time for a good while_ , she thought.

. . . . . . . . . . . 

As Zeus slept, Hera cleaned herself up and donned her most ethereal mortal robes. She transported herself to the entrance to the mortal world and set course for Syros. As she glided through the air, her flowing golden hair glistening in the starlight, she spotted the island of Syros. Once a beautiful place, the harsh weather caused by Demeter’s pain had stripped the trees of their greenery and left the pavilions barren. Hera shivered, chastising herself for forgetting a shawl in the freezing moral world. Then, she quietly descended upon the top of a hill, where a lone house stood.

Hera could spot a silhouette of a woman inside illuminated by the dim embers of a dying hearth. She strode toward the door and found it slightly ajar. Peering through the crack, she caught her first look at Aithra of Syros. The mortal woman’s thick obsidian hair fell in soft waves, framing her heart-shaped face and cascading down her back. Her toned olive skin shone next to the fire, which also lit her cat-like brown eyes. Aithra sat on a stool where she was weaving the beginnings of a tapestry, her dexterous fingers moving through threads on the loom with elegance and grace. _She’s… radiant_ , Hera thought, her cheeks heating up. She banished the thought from her head and steeled herself, kicking the door open. Aithra looked up and acknowledged Hera with a nod.

“Queen Hera,” said Aithra coolly. “I presume you are here to torment me, as you did to all the others?” _How does she know who I am?_

“You dared to enjoy the attentions of my husband,” Hera growled while shifting into her primal form. “My wrath is well-deserved.” Aithra ceased her weaving and cocked her head.

“Why, then, did I turn him and all other men away?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALLLL I WAS BLUSHING THE WHOLE TIME I WROTE THAT!! Hera as a top is truly a mood and it was simultaneously satisfying and heartbreaking to write that scene.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hera and Aithra have their first interaction. Thank you to korecob for being my beta ❤️

“Why, then, did I turn him and all other men away?”, Aithra said, raising her brow. Startled, Hera fizzled out of her primal form mid-leap, dropping unceremoniously to the floor. Wincing, Hera cautiously stood, cradling the arm that she broke her fall with.

“Excuse me, I think I misheard you,” said Hera narrowing her eyes at the mortal woman and slowly approaching her. “You said ‘no’ to Zeus? The King of Gods? Even when you _clearly_ knew it was him?”

Aithra stared at Hera incredulously and scoffed, “If I’m not attracted to him, I don’t owe him a damn thing, god or not.” Aithra arose from her stool, pulling a thick shawl around herself. Even with the small fire in the dwelling, her breaths came out in little white puffs. Hera had a sudden urge to share a smoke with her. _What is wrong with me?_ Hera thought, attempting to glare at Aithra. She sighed for dramatic effect and pointedly examined her cuticles. Aithra shivered and started to feed more kindling to the fire, the fine threads of the tapestry shimmering in its glow.

“I suppose that your answer is adequate, if not brash when referring to a god. But I’m not finished with you just yet, Aithra of Syros. How do you know who I am?”, Hera asked, staring down the other woman with the same look that she used for eliciting confessions out of Hebe when she snuck cookies into her room at night. Aithra simply shrugged and continued to feed the hearth.

“If you don’t remember, I won’t bother telling you,” she replied, straightening up and walking toward Hera. Hera was bewildered; had they really met before? And why in Olympus would she take this tone with _her_ ? A _goddess_? She clicked her tongue in annoyance and swept her long golden locks off of her shoulder.

“You are toeing a fine line here, mortal. Be grateful for my merciful nature; any other god would have incinerated you by now for your impetuous attitude,” Hera said to Aithra, who was now leaning against the wall and smirking. Studying Aithra carefully, Hera furrowed her brow. Aithra’s figure was curvaceous, and at the bottom of the shawl, Hera noticed a little pudginess near the other woman’s stomach. _Her embraces must feel so SOFT._ Hera widened her eyes at her unbidden train of thoughts. “You look to be in your late twenties,” Hera said. “Why aren’t you married yet? I could offer my assistance; after all, matchmaking is a specialty of mine.” Hera flicked her hair back proudly.

Aithra chuckled and shook her head, her head leaning back against the wall of the dwelling. “Like I said, men don’t really… fulfill me,” she answered, turning her eyes away from the goddess. Hera raised a brow, her thoughts flitting to the longing gazes and stolen kisses that she caught her sister, Hestia, giving to Athena when she believed that no one was watching her. Hera gulped, momentarily dropping her eyes to Aithra’s lips.

“Oh! So, you’re more into… you know,” Hera gestured awkwardly to her chest. Aithra looked up in shock, pausing before shaking her head furiously.

“No! Of course not! I mean, I don’t think so, I haven’t ev– ” Aithra cut herself off and started pacing the small dwelling, her cheeks turning a deep rouge. Hera appraised her with a smug smile. _So, there_ is _a way to faze this woman_. Aithra reached a small table covered in dozens of scrolls. They were haphazardly scattered across the surface of the table, many of them only halfway full. The corner of the table upon which a pot of ink rested was covered in inky smudges. “I meant that I’m a thinker. Why would I need a husband when I am so busy writing about my theories on humanity?”, said Aithra, gesturing at the scrolls. Hera finally noticed the ink stains on the fingers of her left hand.

“Ah! So you are a budding philosopher. That is no matter; I can find you a husband who will appreciate these musings of yours,” Hera proclaimed. _The sooner I can get her hitched, the less likely it will be for Zeus to pursue her,_ Hera thought, drumming her fingers on her arm. _She’s pretty, it won’t be hard to find someone_.

“For the last time, I do NOT want to have a husband!”, Aithra fumed, clenching her fists. Hera’s jaw dropped at the other woman’s tone. Aithra stormed past her, accidentally brushing her arm. Hera’s heart raced at their momentary proximity. The mortal woman flung open the door. “I hope you received the information that you disturbed me for. I am NOT interested in your husband, and that is the only thing that I have said that pertains to you,” said Aithra, glaring at the yellow goddess. Hera’s blue eyes blinked in confusion. Then she decided to take whatever dignity she had left and marched toward the frigid air blowing through the door, her nose pointing up in defiance. She paused in the doorway and looking into Aithra’s eyes. 

“I am in a forgiving mood tonight, mortal. But if you ever address me like this again,” Hera partially shifted into her primal form, her hair billowing out behind her and her eyes glowing. Irritated, Aithra shielded her eyes from the glare. “You will be on the receiving end of this wrath,” said Hera turning back into her normal self.

Aithra glowered at the goddess. “I hope I have the pleasure of NEVER meeting you again, Queen Hera.”

Hera skipped out the door and turned her head back coyly. “Right back atcha, babe!”, Hera replied, leaving behind a flabbergasted Aithra as Hera flew back to Olympus.

. . . . . . . . . . . 

Hera crept back into her home, padding across the moon-lit floor quietly as she attempted to wrangle her disheveled hair into a bun. She stopped by Hebe’s room, smiling to herself while looking at her daughter curled up on her bed with a peaceful expression on her tiny face. She slid into her study, closing the door and plopping down in her armchair with a sigh. She opened “The Peacock’s Talons” and flipped the pages of her scrapbook to the page entitled “Aithra of Syros”. This visit had NOT gone according to plan. Hera had always found women attractive, but it was just objective, right? The way she had acted around Aithra felt like she was under a spell. The goddess gasped. _Could she be an enchantress? Like Circe or Medea?_ Hera thought. 

It would certainly explain her odd behavior around this woman. She had digressed from cursing Aithra to wanting to simultaneously embrace her and marry her off. Hera groaned, resting her face down on her palms. She slowly opened one of her eyes to read the plan that she originally had in store for Aithra. “To punish Aithra for her unrestrained ‘warmth’ toward Zeus, the King of Gods, she shall be cursed to have a body temperature which will not only cause her great discomfort but will also scald any person who touches her.” Hera grimaced at her own words.

In hindsight, she was glad that she had not enacted this plan. The mortal woman would have simply thrown herself into her philosophy work and would never have cause to leave her dwelling. Hera visualized Aithra working on her scrolls, her brow furrowed in deep thought and her luscious hair unkempt and wild. Maybe she would rub her nose with her ink-stained fingers and get an adorable smudge on it, or even bite the tip of her stylus absentmindedly, her lips –

“Gahh! Not again!”, Hera exclaimed, burying her head in her arms and shaking her head with vigor, as if the action would shake the unbidden thoughts out of her mind. Sighing in frustration, Hera put the scrapbook back in place and headed toward her bedroom. She gently opened the door to find Zeus sitting on the floor of the room, a dejected expression gracing his purple features. He was picking at the fabric of his boxers, muttering to himself under his breath. Hera looked at him pitifully; it was rare to see her husband like this. _Crack!_ Hera gasped and looked down at the glass that she had stepped on and found a nearly empty bottle of liquor next to it.

“Bunny! I was so worried, I woke up and the bed was empty and then Poseidon told me that Hades is _lying_ to me and – ” Zeus sniffled and looked up at Hera, his face shining with tears.

“I was blessing a late-night elopement. Forbidden lovers from very strict families, the usual,” Hera lied, hoping that her husband wouldn’t pry any further. She nudged the glass aside, crouched down near the purple god and lifted his chin. “And Hades is lying? About what?” Zeus looked intently into his wife’s eyes.

“I think he knows where Persephone is. And I need my partner in crime for this. I can’t trust anyone else right now, Bunny. We have to work together on this one.” Hera blanched at his mention of trust, knowing how deeply ironic it was for both of them.

She schooled her expression and looked at her husband resolutely. “Of course, my love,” Hera replied, the endearment feeling like sawdust in her mouth. “Let’s get to work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me before I realized that I'm bi: why am I so awkward around this girl? Is it wiTChCRaFt?  
> Me for the past few months, bi and proud 🏳️🌈: I'M PASSING THE VIBE CHECK FOR SIMPING FOR CARTOON GIRLS 🥺
> 
> Also, I have the entire story planned out now and I'm really excited to roll it out!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeus and Hera have a chat. Thank you to korecob for being my beta!

To her utter dismay, Hera was actually excited about working with Zeus again. He was an awful husband, but when it came to something he truly cared about – which evidently did not include their relationship – he was more than capable of handling himself. When his murderous Titan father swallowed the six traitors, he took the lead and killed Kronos. When Hebe cried about not having a scary enough Halloween costume, Zeus was the one to enhance her Chimera costume by erratically causing bursts of lightning around her, making her friends both gasp and giggle.  _ When he decided that I would be  _ his  _ after the Titanomachy,  _ thought Hera,  _ her husband persisted until she gave in, disregarding anyone else’s desires _ .

Hera’s memories of this period made her queasy. _What if Zeus had noticed the infatuation that Hera’s elder sister, Demeter, had for him? If he had given the feisty green goddess with luscious purple hair a chance?_ Hera’s thoughts then shifted over to her past lover, Hades. In the back of her mind, yellow and blue had always looked rather dashing together. And maybe yellow and olive-toned would be sight to behold, Hera’s meticulously manicured hands caressed by a pair of calloused and nimble ones while sitting on top of a hill of a certain island – Hera pinched the flesh of her arm to distract herself from these random thoughts of Aithra of Syros. She winced, rubbing at the skin that she had accidentally pinched too hard.

“Bunny, are you alright? I know, talking about my brother’s dishonesty makes me uncomfortable, too,” said Zeus gently, startling Hera out of her stupor. His large purple hands enveloped hers, shifting himself toward her on the couch that they had moved to strategize on how to coax an admission out of Hades. Hera removed one of her hands to flick a wayward strand of hair that had fallen onto his hastily tied robe.

“If Hades is really harboring Persephone, we must approach this tactfully. Prying too obviously will cause your brother to hole up in the Underworld, and it may take  _ years  _ to find the goddess of spring.” Hera stood and started to pace pensively. “However, working too slowly is not something we can afford either. I know that you don’t agree with me, but Apollo has hurt Persephone in a way that you will never –”

“Hera!” growled Zeus, sparks of lightning beginning to course through his hair. “You can’t accuse my  _ son  _ of a crime based on a feeling  _ ­ _ –”

“A feeling?”, Hera hissed, clenching her fists. “Are you really daft enough to overlook that flower nymph, Daphne, and how within  _ days _ after being entangled with  _ your son _ , she left her successful modeling career in Olympus to flee back to Demeter’s realm in the mortal world?”, Hera fumed, starting to float, her eyes glowing with the telltale signs of her primal form. Zeus stood up; his face twisted into a snarl.  _ Not now, you need to focus on Hades _ , Hera thought to herself. Taking a deep breath, she landed back on the cool marble floor, her hair drooping around her after coming loose from her bun. Hera smoothed down her hair, trying to tamp down the hot rage boiling inside her.

Zeus sat back down, swatting at his singed robe. “Regardless of what Apollo may or may not have done, Persephone is a goddess with responsibilities,” he said. “And there’s also her unauthorized act of wrath. Thetis and her posse won’t shut up about it.” Zeus cradled his head in his hands.

“Oh please. Do you really believe your  _ mistress _ ? What can a nymph’s words do to a  _ goddess _ ?” said Hera snidely, flipping her hair. “Really, Zeus, fucking your secretary is so cliched and unoriginal  _ ­ _ –”

“I haven’t slept with  _ anyone _ but you since the incident with Ares!” said Zeus. He got up to fix himself a drink, angrily banging around the bottles and glasses.  _ He’s such a drama queen _ .  _ ALL of Rhea’s sons are,  _ Hera thought, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

“Sex isn’t everything. Can you honestly say that you’ve never thought about being with another woman in the last 3 months?” asked Hera, drumming her fingers on her arm impatiently. Zeus slammed down his glass, sloshing his appletini all over the counter. He stormed over to his wife and grabbed her arms tightly. Hera recoiled, her heart hammering so loudly with fear that she knew that Zeus could feel it too.

“You’re so damn  _ obsessed _ with me that you can’t even get through one conversation with me without saying all of those lies!”, shouted Zeus, shaking a trembling Hera.

“Stop it Zeus, PLEASE, you’re hurting me –”

“And your accusations hurt me more than any physical wound could,” said Zeus, releasing his iron-clad grip on her arms, moving his hands to cup her face and wipe away Hera’s tears with unnerving gentleness. She squeezed her eyes shut, her chest quivering with a deep, unhinged sorrow. There were so many times in the eighties when she seriously considered telling her husband about her affair with his brother. Because she knew that the pain that Zeus would feel would mirror her own and she finally wanted to be the one to hurt  _ him _ . But she had a reputation to uphold; the King of Gods could sleep around and be praised for it, but the goddess of marriage and family would be scorned, shamed, and discredited for the rest of eternity.

Hera clenched her fists and fixed her piercing blue gaze onto his wide violet eyes. She glowered at him menacingly, hoping that her look conveyed her unending heartache and the constant betrayal that she felt. “Touch me like that again and you will never step another foot in my home,” said Hera quietly, and eerie sense of calm washing over her. She felt the icy indifference slip into her veins, acting like a shield against the her urges to remain emotionally vulnerable. She stepped away from his hold on her face, letting his arms fall to his sides limply.

“If we’re going to work together, it will be on  _ my  _ terms. Forget the reason; we need to find Persephone before Demeter’s wrath causes all of the mortals to starve and die,” said Hera, remembering the chill in the air in Syros and the barren trees, their branches curling out like the shriveled hands of a dying being. “We must place our allies in the Underworld to search for any clues that we can use as leverage when we finally confront Hades.”

Zeus frowned. “You want to spy on my brother? Forget Demeter’s wrath; we have no idea what the ramifications of an uncontrolled Underworld could be.”

“We have no choice,” Hera hissed. “We need to find out where he’s –” Hera was interrupted by the sound of a yawn coming from the top of the stairs. The yellow and purple gods swiveled their heads to spot Hebe stretching her tiny arms and sleepily dragging herself down the stairs. She looked up blearily at her parents, fixing her eyes on her father, her face breaking into huge smile.

“Papa! You’re home!” squealed the tiny yellow goddess, leaping into Zeus’ arms. He grinned, cradling his daughter into his arms.

“Hello, little bug,” said Zeus. Hera’s expressions softened at the sight of her darling girl being held by her husband. Zeus had always been a good father to Hebe.  _ So far,  _ whispered a wicked voice in Hera’s head.

Hebe pinched her nose and turned her head away from her father. “Ewww. You’re so stinky! Did you spill one of your drinks on yourself? Because  _ my  _ drinks don’t smell like that!”, Hebe exclaimed, reaching out for her mother’s arms instead. Hera looked amusedly at Zeus and carried their daughter over to the couch.

“Why are you up, my darling? It’s nearly three in the morning,” asked Hera. Zeus sat beside Hera and started stroking Hebe’s tangled hair. Hebe scrunched her eyebrows together and glared at her parents, crossing her arms.

“You both are so loud! I was in the middle of a really fun dream and then your voices woke me up!” said Hebe wagging a finger at them. “What were you even talking about?”

Hera and Zeus exchanged an embarrassed look. “Um, we were just… chatting about your Uncle Hades!” answered Zeus, to which Hera stifled a frustrated groan, rolling her eyes.  _ He never knows when to keep his mouth shut! _ Hebe bounced eagerly, clapping her hands.

“I know what you can do for me to say sorry for waking me up!”, Hebe said, her eyes shining with excitement. “Invite Uncle Hades over for dinner!” She looked up at both of her parents expectedly, her expression bearing a striking resemblance to her mother’s. Hera slowly started to nod, the corner of her mouth turned up as she raised a brow at her husband.

“That’s a splendid idea, Hebe! Why just one uncle? Let’s make it a party and invite your Uncle Poseidon and Aunt Amphitrite, too!” said Hera. “But right now, you need to go back to bed. Little girls need their sleep!”

“But  _ you _ never seem to sleep, Mama,” retorted Hebe pointedly.

“That is because we are grown-ups, Little Bug,” said Zeus, taking his daughter’s hand and leading her up the stairs.

“Pfft. That’s such a silly thing to say,” Hera heard Hebe say, her voice drifting as they got farther away. Her daughter was right about one thing; Hera wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon. She needed to plan the perfect dinner party.

. . . . . . . . . . . 

The next few days passed by in a blur. Hera threw herself into her godly responsibilities of helping Zeus to rule Olympus during the day, and at night, the two of them discussed possible plans to deal with Hades and Persephone. Her inbox of weddings was dwindling; the god of weddings, Hymen, had reported that the cold weather was not conducive for people to get married. She was getting restless before the dinner party on Saturday. Hera usually relieved her stress by flying into the mortal world blessing a couple marriages, but those were so few and far between now days.  _ Curse you, Demeter _ , she thought.  _ Your wrath is taking a toll on my work, too.  _ Hera  _ needed  _ to get out of Olympus today, so she decided to go to the first place in her inbox.

She reached into her inbox to retrieve a lone slip of paper. It read, “The Union of Damiana and Galen.” The date was today. Hera unfolded the corner of the paper to reveal the location and she groaned. “Gods be damned!” she whispered, before setting off to the mortal world, the slip of paper clutched in her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hebe is a sweetie pie and I LOVE writing her 🥺 Thank you to everyone who has commented so far! They really encourage me to write this fic ❤️


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